


Thwart me Valentine

by Scmnz



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fluff, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Humor, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Misunderstandings, Moron 4 Moron, Oral Sex, Power Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Praise Kink, Resolved Misunderstandings, Smut, Switching, Vaginal Sex, Valentine's Day, bastard aziraphale, idiot plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scmnz/pseuds/Scmnz
Summary: Aziraphale plans to surprise Crowley with a romantic day for Valentines. Candlelight dinner, rose petals on the bed, lingerie, the works. Unfortunately, Crowley is planning something very similar, and they get in each other's way.-Crowley had finally, finally made it to Aziraphale’s favorite gourmet chocolatier unseen and unaccompanied. Even when trying his hardest to avoid the angel, it was like some force was pulling them together.Aziraphale, as hopeless a romantic as Crowley had recently discovered him to be, might have called that force love. Crowley cynically thought it felt rather more like the universe playing a practical joke.He cut through St. James Park.He glanced at the ducks in the pond, and ran directly into Aziraphale. Yep, the universe definitely had it out for him.Aziraphale looked as surprised and Crowley felt, and flung the bag in his hands into the pond. “OH HELLO CROWLEY! What a nice surprise!” His voice was rather too loud.Crowley chucked the box of Chocolates safely into a nearby tree. “AZIRAPHALE!” He plastered a fake smile across his face. “How lovely to see you!”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	Thwart me Valentine

Aziraphale and Crowley weren’t exactly in the habit of celebrating or even remembering human holidays. In a life thousands of years long, the years went by far too fast to care to celebrate a specific day. Oh, Aziraphale enjoyed the food, the love, and the way they brought people together. Crowley enjoyed the petty squabbles and commercialism holidays inevitably brought. But that was hardly the same thing as observing the days themselves. 

But that was before the Apocalypse hadn’t. Everything was different now, as they savored finally being together and relished each “new” experience as a couple. This would be the first Valentine’s day that the pair actually bothered with so neither really knew what they were doing.

But luckily, Aziraphale had done his research and had a plan to get ready in the upcoming weeks. 

Written in his neat script on rich parchment: 

  * Replace bed linens (no tartan!)
  * Get lingerie, roses, candles
  * Valentine's card
  * New cologne
  * Keep Crowley out of bookshop the day of to prepare
  * Date at the planetarium
  * Ride in Bentley with no minimal complaining
  * Tickets to Shakespeare (one of the “funny ones”)
  * Set up bookshop for dinner, roses on the bed, music, etc. 
  * Candlelight dinner
  * Slow dance after dinner
  * make love to Crowley



  
  


*****

Crowley glared at the trembling flowers before him. They were pristine, not a spot on them. But that wasn’t good enough, not for these plants.  _ These _ flowers were for Aziraphale, and perfect just wasn’t good enough. They had to be exquisite. The roses weren’t red enough, the hyacinths weren’t vibrant enough, the orchids weren’t large enough. He paced in front of them, watching them tremble.

He had promised Aziraphale he’d be gentler with his plants, and he was loath to break a promise to his angel. Aziraphale had somehow gotten the ridiculous idea into his head that his treatment of them somehow reflected on Crowley’s own feelings of self-worth. It was preposterous.

He didn’t shout, simply leaned in close to the plants and hissed. “You aren’t good enough for him. You’ll never be good enough for him. Get better!” The flowers trembled, but showed no sign of changing. Stubborn! Useless! A little shouting wouldn’t be breaking his promise if it was less than usual, right?

He was interrupted from his musings by the phone ringing from the other room. Only one person still used that old decrepit thing rather than his cell. Crowley smiled despite himself and sauntered over. 

He picked up the receiver. “Morning, angel. What’s up?”

“Hello, my dear. I was wondering if I could… Go over there and discuss something?”

Crowley glanced over at the flowers, unhidden and too conspicuous. “How about I head over to the shop. I could grab you some coffee from your favorite cafe on my way there.” 

Aziraphale hesitated. Crowley felt a pang of hurt. Why wouldn’t Aziraphale want him in the shop? He had thought he was always welcome. “Or I could meet you at the cafe” he added quickly.

“What an excellent idea my dear.” Aziraphale sounded relieved, which stung. 

“What’d you want to discuss anyway?”

“I was wondering how you felt about… planetariums?”

Crowley’s eyebrow rose. “Planetariums? Why?”

“No reason!” Aziraphale answered too quickly. 

Crowley shrugged. He’d take any excuse to spend time with the angel. 

He looked down at the list on the desk by the phone. A printed page in Comic Sans(he found it easier to read) with notes scrawled all over it:

  * Replace bed sheets (tartan?)
  * Buy lingerie
  * Box of chocolates (heart shape, or is that too much?)
  * Perfect flowers (whip into shape) 
  * Stay at bookshop night before
  * Surprise angel with breakfast in bed
  * Drive Bentley more slowly
  * Date at museum
  * Tickets to the opera
  * Take Aziraphale out for Sushi + desert 
  * Stargazing
  * to flat after
  * Give massage
  * Sex? 



He sighed and checked off the flowers. They weren’t right, but there wasn’t much more he could do about it. These were the third attempt. 

*****

Aziraphale was meandering through Dunelm looking at their selection of sheets. He examined a black set closely, but he could just hear Crowley’s voice in his mind, gloating about his “demonic influence” or teasing that Aziraphale was trying too hard to be cool. He didn’t particularly care one way or the other about “cool”. He just wanted something less shabby and worn the (truly ancient) sheets on his bed, preferably something just stylish enough that Crowley wouldn’t bring it up  _ every _ time Aziraphale bedded him. He set down the black sheets with a sign and moved on.

He caught sight of a deep forest green set that looked like they would be unobjectionable to just about anyone. He moved for them, and bumped straight into someone. “Oh I’m terrible sorr-” he began, then froze. He knew that red hair. 

“Aziraphale! What are you doing here?” Crowley looked slightly alarmed. Aziraphale was sure his own expression was rather similar.

“I’m just… looking around! Not here to buy anything at all.” He said hurriedly, rocking back and forth on his heels. He hoped Crowley wouldn’t notice anything suspicious about his hurried excuse and ask more questions, as was his manner.

Luckily he just grinned. “Yeah me too. Just looking.” 

“Ah, what a coincidence. I’ll just, uh… be going now. Since I have no business here.” 

“Oh really, I was just leaving too. Obviously. Fancy lunch angel?”

Aziraphale gave only one glance back at the sheets. He’d have to take another trip to come back for them. But he couldn’t let Crowley notice him behaving oddly, or that might ruin the surprise.

-

Surreptitiously, so that Aziraphale wouldn’t notice, Crowley set down a package he had been carrying, and had hidden behind his back when Aziraphale had bumped into him. They were a tartan pattern the store had almost certainly not sold before he set foot in the shop. Crowley thanked whoever wasn’t listening that Aziraphale hadn’t noticed anything was up.

*****

The bookshop's bell jingled, and startled Aziraphale so badly he nearly dropped the bottle of new cologne he was testing. He could have sworn he’d locked it when he’d closed earlier, one customer having gotten too close to leaving with one of his beloved books.

“Angel! I brought pastries.” called the familiar voice from the front of the shop. 

Damn it! Aziraphale shoved the incriminating bottle of cologne into a pocket. It was only a small piece of the surprise, an accent, but he didn’t want even that to be spoiled before Valentine's day. That did nothing to disguise the smell, however. Thinking quickly, and panicking just a little, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and was soaked in mint tea.

“Angel?” Crowley now sounded rather concerned. He rounded the corner into the backroom. He blinked in asstonishment and flicked out his tongue to scent the air. “What the heaven happened?” 

*****

Whenever Aziraphale tried to buy supplies, it seemed to wind up with him running into Crowley and having to leave without what he needed. It almost made him want to resort to miricling the entire thing, but that felt somehow less romantic. Luckily today had been different.

He had been most worried about going to a florist, and counted himself very fortunate that this particular trip had been serpent free. 

Caught up in his thoughts and plans, Aziraphale’s feet took him on a familiar path. And so, without thinking, he cut through St. James’s Park. 

-

Crowley had finally,  _ finally _ made it to Aziraphale’s favorite gourmet chocolatier unseen and unaccompanied. Even when trying his hardest to avoid the angel, it was like some force was pulling them together. 

Aziraphale, as hopeless a romantic as Crowley had recently discovered him to be, might have called that force love. Crowley cynically thought it felt rather more like the universe playing a practical joke.

He cut through St. James Park to where the Bentley was parked. It wouldn’t do for his distinctive car to be seen by a shop when he was trying to surprise Aziraphale after all. It would give the game up. 

He glanced at the ducks in the pond, and ran directly into Aziraphale. Yep, the universe definitely had it out for him. 

Aziraphale looked as surprised and Crowley felt, and flung the bag in his hands into the pond. “OH HELLO CROWLEY! What a nice surprise!” His voice was rather too loud.

Crowley chucked the box of Chocolates safely into a nearby tree. “AZIRAPHALE!” He plastered a fake smile across his face. “How lovely to see you!”

They were both so preoccupied with acting like nothing was up, that neither of them noticed the other’s odd behavior. 

*****

Aziraphale looked in the mirror and did an experimental, seductive sway of his hips. All of the garments he had tried on so far had been lovely, of course. At a high-end boutique like this, he expected nothing less. The lingerie had all miraculously fit, but none of them had felt quite right. He eyed the ensemble of white lace and plastic wings with a critical gaze. It was cheesy, and would certainly make Crowley laugh. With a sigh, he began to undo the laces.

-

A few changing stalls over, Crowley glared at his reflection. He should have  _ known _ this lacy white thing with the stupid plastic wings would look ridiculous. But nothing looked good enough and he was getting desperate. With a growl and a snap, the lingerie was back on its hanger.

-

After discarding several more options Aziraphale sighed and returned his selections to the rack. Luckily, the only other person in the shop was in the changing rooms, so they couldn’t witness his failure. Just as he was about to leave, dejected and empty-handed, an option he’d initially passed over as too daring caught his eye.

-

Crowley stared at the last remaining option from his haul. It was something he’d grabbed without really considering. I was a nice rich crimson color, and satin, and it had been with the rest of the Valentine specials, so he’d grabbed it. Oh well, might as well take one last shot. He slipped it on.

It was rather more demure than Crowley’s usual bedroom attire. When he bothered with lingerie at all, it was always with the aim to make Aziraphale gasp, or blush, or lunge for him and tear the lingerie off of him. Lacy, strappy things in shades of black. 

This set, on the other hand, was subdued but charming. Bikini cut red panties, cut low enough to show the curve of his hip bones, but with enough material to still leave much to the imagination. The top was shaped like a heart, with a sweetheart neckline ending in a diamond point above his navel, held in place with red ribbons and some delicate lace. It wasn’t really his style, but he could imagine Aziraphale’s reaction now. This would make his angel incredibly happy, and hopefully, also aroused. 

-

Aziraphale slipped into the changing room just as the other customer left, and had no idea what good fortune that was. Trying the item on confirmed his gut instinct. This would work flawlessly, and reduce his demon to a babbling blushing mess. 

*****

A few blocks away from the lingerie shop Aziraphale caught a glimpse of familiar red hair. Crowley was walking towards him, but hadn’t seen him yet. Aziraphale sighed, he knew his good luck would give out eventually. Just in time to go unnoticed, he slipped his purchase down his trousers to hide it. Luckily, there wasn’t that much fabric so it didn’t create any obvious lumps or unseemly bulges. 

Crowley caught sight of him, and jumped with alarm. He was carrying something, and Aziraphale looked at the bag curiously. Following his eyes, Crowley looked guilty and shoved the parcel up his shirt. Odd. But at least it meant Crowley wasn’t examining him too closely, so Aziraphale was more than happy to pretend not to think anything of it. 

“Angel! Want to get some lunch?” The demon exclaimed, perhaps hoping to distract him with the temptation of food. It worked. 

“That sounds lovely, dear.” Even if sitting with the lingerie still hidden about his person would be rather uncomfortable.

*****

It was the day before Valentine's Day and Aziraphale and Crowley had just finished an excellent bottle of wine. Generally, on an evening like this, Aziraphale would suggest they continue at the bookshop. Crowley was rather counting on it, in fact.

So he was rather taken aback when Aziraphale smiled at him and said “Why don’t we go to your flat and continue?” 

Crowley couldn't let him see the flat, not before tomorrow, and not in the state it was in. “Why not the bookshop?”

Aziraphale’s smile fell. And Crowley couldn’t stand that. “Oh... the bookshop is a bit of a mess at the moment, I'm afraid.”

“It’s always a mess angel.” Crowley tried to tease. “Thought that was the point, keep the customers out.” Aziraphale only looked more upset. Crowley began to panic. “Not that it’s bad, or ‘nything. Shops lovely. Tickety-boo or whatever. Erm.” That didn’t seem to help. If anything, Aziraphale looked even more crestfallen. 

“Hhgn. Flat’s fine. Yeah, my flat. Just need to tidy up a bit.” Hide things, more accurately. 

Aziraphale perked up, the light back in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t need to tidy up on my account.” 

Crowley groaned internally. Aziraphale was so smart, how could he be so bloody oblivious. (Crowley had no idea how ironic that sentiment was.) 

But his hesitation was apparently what his oblivious angel picked up on. “That is, if you don’t want me to come that’s… fine…” Aziraphale began to look concerned again.

“No! Nononono, no. Flat’s good, flats fine. Just give me ten minutes to get it ready.” 

Aziraphale nodded, looking puzzled yet relieved. 

*****

Crowley hid away all the evidence of his plans for the next day as quickly as he could. All except for the new bedding, which he figured he could just leave on the bed. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but as he hoped to get Aziraphale to spend the night it seemed appropriate. 

They drank good champagne, and talked, and as tended to happen when he was with his angel the time flew by and soon night had fallen.

Crowley was sprawled across the sofa, his head in Aziraphale’s lap. He’d bought the sofa under duress to “replace that ridiculous throne,” but he had to admit the angel had had a point. This was much better for snuggling. Aziraphale was running his fingers idly through Crowley’s hair as they talked. 

When he looked up from Crowley’s face, he noticed that the world outside had grown dark. “It’s gotten late. I suppose I should be going.” That was strange. Aziraphale had seemed distracted all evening, and these days a suggestion to take things to the bedroom was far more expected than either of them leaving when night fell (or any other time of day for that matter.) 

“You can stay.” Crowley murmured, wrapping his arms around him. Aziraphale hesitated. Crowley pushed down the hurt that caused, out of millenia old habit. But he needed him to spend the night if he wanted to surprise him with breakfast in bed the next morning. Time to pull out the big temptation guns. He rolled over, pressing his face into the angel’s belly. In a voice more soft and vulnerable than he’d take with anyone else, he asked again. “Stay. Please?” 

Aziraphale’s grip on his hair tightened for a second, before beginning to rub soothing, apologetic circles into his scalp. “Of course my dear.” Crowley clung tighter. 

Crowley had spent so little time purposefully avoiding Aziraphale in the weeks leading up to Valentine’s day, and whenever he had been free it had seemed like he was inconveniencing the angel. But it would all be worth it. Tomorrow would be perfect and nothing would get in the way of his plan. Perhaps Aziraphale picked up on some of Crowley’s doubts, because it wasn’t hard to talk him to bed after that. Crowley barely had to say anything before Aziraphale was carrying him, bridal style, into the next room. 

They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Aziraphale giggled as Crowley struggled with his buttons, complaining for what must be the thousandth time “You wear too many blessed layers, angel.” If only Aziraphale would let him miracle away his clothes it would be so much simpler. 

Aziraphale had no such qualms about  _ Crowley’s _ clothes, however, and suddenly Crowley found himself entirely naked, still working on the complicated, old fashioned clasps of Aziraphale’s trousers. “That’s not fair!” He whined, but still delighted at that mischievous glint in his angel’s eyes.

“Oh isn’t it?” Aziraphale responded with faux concern, doing absolutely nothing to help. 

At last, he freed his erection, and flung the irritating trousers off the bed. Aziraphale grinned. “And what do you plan to do with me now?”

Rather than answer, Crowley slid down between his thighs with a matching grin. He licked the head of Aziraphale’s cock, before taking it entirely into his mouth in one smooth motion. Aziraphale groaned, tightening his thighs around Crowley, which made the demon moan in response, the vibrations traveling up his throat through his cock.

He hollowed out his cheeks, bobbing his head at the leisurely pace he knew Aziraphale would want. He thrilled as the angel’s fingers tangled in his hair. A more passionate echo of the way he had gently stroked his hair earlier. 

Crowley set to the task with enthusiasm. Too soon, Aziraphale pulled him off with an obscene popping sound. Crowley whined. “I know dear, and it feels incredible. But I find I’d quite like to be inside you right now, if you’re amenable. And if you keep going like that I’d be finished in no time.”

Crowley swallowed hard, eyes blown wide. With a thought, he was ready for him.

“Eager dear?” Aziraphale asked in a teasing voice, as if he couldn’t see the demon’s straining cock. The glorious bastard.

“Yess.” He hissed.

Aziraphale flipped them over with ease, pulling Crowley up into another passionate kiss. 

He slid in in one easy motion. Crowley moaned, falling back into the pillows and rolling his hips to meet his thrusts. 

“Ooh yes.” Aziraphale moaned, beginning a more punishing pace. Crowley grabbed his lovehandles, holding on for dear life as his eyes rolled back. It was glorious, when Aziraphale got bossy and demanding like this. 

Aziraphale really had been close when he had stopped Crowley, because in only minutes he was spilling inside him. Crowley pouted.

“Now now, none of that dear.” Aziraphale chided. He took Crowley’s length into one soft manicured hand, and snapped with the other. Crowley’s back arched as he felt Aziraphale harden again inside him. “Angel!” he cried, almost a prayer.

****

Aziraphale rarely slept, but a needy, cuddly demon wrapped around him like the serpent he was, whining pitifully when he tried to move or get a book, had trapped him. Part of it, he knew, was calculated. But it was also partially genuine, so he indulged them both and stayed.

Which is how he found himself slowly waking up to tender kisses. He smiled, reaching out to pull Crowley into his arms. He stopped when his hands brushed something metal, and blinked up in confusion. 

“G’morning angel.” Crowley was grinning, his golden eyes focused intently on all of Aziraphale’s reactions.

“What’s this dear?” Aziraphale asked. He sat up, Crowley rearranging the pillows so he could lean back comfortably, and looked. There was a tray in his lap, with a magnificent spread of food on it. There were pancakes, shaped like hearts and laden with berries and cream. Bacon, cooked to a perfect crisp. Scrambled eggs, with just enough cheese melting into them. Orange juice, freshly squeezed from the smell of it. And to complete it all, a single rose layed artfully across the tray.

Aziraphale smiled up at Crowley, his blue eyes going soft. “You made me all this? It looks absolutely scrummy!” So this was why Crowley had been so determined to spend the night together. What a delightfully thoughtful surprise. 

Crowley climbed back into bed beside him. He took a forkful of food from the tray to Aziraphale, who closed his eyes, and moaned around the perfectly cooked mouthful. He allowed Crowley to feed him like that, wiggling and letting out soft pleased noises in response to the food. Crowley’s eyes tracked it all, seeming to marvel in each reaction, each sign that he had done well and pleased his angel. 

When all the food was eaten, Aziraphale reached for a napkin, but Crowley stopped him. Snapping the tray away, he crawled into Aziraphale’s lap, and kissed and licked away the few crumbs that were on his face and hands. Aziraphale giggled, wrapping his arms around Crowley and pulling him into a more serious kiss. 

When they eventually pulled apart, panting and flushed, Crowley snapped his fingers again. Two tickets gleamed in his hand, and he presented them to Aziraphale.

He took them and examined them. “What’s this dear boy? Oh…” Aziraphlae frowned. Tickets to an Opera at one o’clock. One of Mozart’s, that he and Crowley had seen the first production of together. But at one, the exact same time as the tickets to a Midsummer Night’s Dream Aziraphale had planned to surprise Crowley with later that day.

“You don’t like it?” Crowley’s golden eyes were wide with alarm, the darling, so desperate to please him. “I can fix it, I can make this day perfect for you, just give me a chance, I’ll, I’ll do better pleas-”

Aziraphale silenced him with a soft, gentle kiss. The demon in his lap remained tense, however. “I love it dear, truly. It’s just that, well.” Aziraphale trailed off, thinking about the past weeks and all the odd little things he had failed to notice about Crowley’s recent behavior. All the coincidental running into each other in places neither of them usually frequented. They had both been rather silly, Aziraphale realized. 

“Hhunh?” Crowley still looked frantic. Surprises were all well and good, but not at the expense of Crowley’s nerves. 

Aziraphale smoothed the rumbled pajama’s down Crowley’s back soothingly, then continued. “I see you have a lovely day planned for us dear, and I’m sure it would be absolutely divine.” It was a sign of how worried he was that Crowley didn’t even roll his eyes at divine, “It’s just that…”

“Just that?”

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and handed over his own tickets. Filling his voice with as much love as he could, he continued, “As it happens, I also had a romantic day planned for us.” 

Crowley stared at the silver tickets in his hands. “Oh.” His face relaxed, and Aziraphale guessed from his distant look that he was also thinking about the past weeks, putting the pieces together in his mind. A grin split across his face. “Oh, we’re idiots.” 

Aziraphale started giggling, pulling Crowley into his arms. “Yes, I rather think we are. Even now, we’re thwarting each other.” Crowley started laughing too, snickering as he pressed his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. 

They stayed like that, curled around each other and laughing for several minutes. All the tension and worry about making a silly human holiday perfect dissipated from the pair. Wheezing, out of breath from the laughter, Crowley gasped out, “So what are we gonna do about this mess?”

Aziraphale considered their options. “I suppose we could combine the plans; take turns surprising each other. But really, my dear, any day I get to spend with you is special.”

Crowley nuzzled his neck, practically glowing with contentment. “You’re being soppy now.”

Aziraphale kissed his forehead. “Yes I am. Now, shall we get going… Wherever you planned for us to go first?”

Crowley nodded, but didn’t untangle himself from Aziraphale, who huffed out a chuckle. “Well now you’re just thwarting yourself, my dear.”

*****

It was ten by the time they left the flat. Aziraphale was dressed in his usual fare, Crowley in a red dress, which rode the line between classic and revealing.

The drive to the British museum was relatively uneventful. Crowley tried, and failed, to go the speed limit. Aziraphale tried, and failed, to keep quiet about it. They parked in a miraculously free space for downtown london. Crowley lept out, hurrying around the car to open Aziraphale’s door and offer him his arm. He beamed. “Thank you darling.” 

Aziraphale lead the way, guiding them to all of his favorite exhibits. Crowley was just happy to be near him, to bask in his warmth and tease him mercilessly about his old fashioned tastes. 

Afterwards they ate a light lunch at a nearby cafe. Aziraphale chattered about all they had just seen as he ate, and Crowley watched him with an air of contentment. 

Then they went to the globe to watch a Midsummer Night’s dream. The spare tickets to the opera were miraculously found by a panicking young lady, who had forgotten to get anything special for her girlfriend that Valentine’s day. 

It was a very good production, though Aziraphale insisted the one they had seen in the 19th century had been better. Crowley lounged with his head resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder as they watched. They debated the merits of various versions of this play they had seen over the centuries in between laughing and reacting to the version taking place before their eyes. 

“Where to next angel?” Crowley asked, kissing Aziraphale’s hand as they left the theater. 

“What did you have in mind dear?”

“Thought I might take you to that little sushi place you like, the one with the conveyor belts, and get you as much as you want.”

“Hmm, that does sound nice…”

“Why, what was your plan?”

“Getting some take-out and going back to the bookshop. You know I’ve never been able to get the hang of cooking, but I have things set up there.”

Crowley smirked. “That’s right, the knives all catch fire, and you always get distracted with a book and burn everything. I still don’t know how you burned spaghetti.” 

“Oh hush you.” But Aziraphale didn’t sound that annoyed. 

“Tell you what, you head back to the shop and I’ll pick something up for us on my way there.” 

Aziraphale agreed and they kissed before parting ways.

*****

Crowley knocked on the bookshop door. He never knocked, just sauntered in like who owned the place, whether it was locked or not. But after so many miscommunications, he didn’t want to risk messing anything up again. So he stood, in slick suit, well tailored and accentuating all his hard angles, holding a bouquet and a box of chocolates as well as dinner in his hands, dancing from foot to foot with nerves as if the Soho street were consecrated ground. 

After a long, anxious wait he knocked again. “Honestly, we’re closed! Why can’t anyone seem to read the door, we’re” came Aziraphale’s irritated voice. Crowley grinned with relief and swung open the door. 

There stood Aziraphale, and the sight of him took Crowley’s breath away. He wasn’t in his usual waistcoat and tartan tie, but instead in a more modern suit, a well tailored white silk affair with a pale blue cravat.

“Oh, it’s you my dear.” Aziraphale deflated, clearly having been preparing to chew a would-be customer out for daring to disturb this evening.

Crowley smirked. “Oh you’re closed? I could always leave and come back later.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly. “Nonsense.” He gestured to the flowers, forgotten in Crowley’s hand at the sight of his angel. “Those are for me I take it? Oh my dear, they’re lovely.” He examined them closely, smiling at each individual flower Crowley had grown for him and breathing in their scent.

Crowley’s tongue flicked out, scenting the air as well, and he raised an eyebrow at an unexpected change. “New cologne?”

Aziraphale looked delighted. “You noticed!” 

“ ‘Course I did.”

“Oh, but where are my manners? Please, come into the back room with me.”

Aziraphale led him to the back of the shop, where the usual chairs, end tables and couch had been moved. There instead were still stacks and stacks of books everywhere, but there was now a clear space in the center of the room. There sat a table set for a romantic candlelight dinner. It was antique, like most of Aziraphale’s furniture, and spread with a cream colored tablecloth. Crowley appreciated the lack of tartan. On it were silver place settings, and an ornate candle stick to match. On one of the plates was… something red and pink.

“What’s that?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Aziraphale fidgeted. “Oh that… I’m not up to date on human customs you know… So    
I asked Adam how it was supposed to be done, but I’m not sure I got it quite right. I saw the one’s in the shops, of course, but Adam said it meant more if you made it yourself. Oh dear… I do hope you like it but-”

Crowley silenced him with a kiss. “You’re babbling angel. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Aziraphale smiled tentatively. “Thank you dear. May I take your jacket?”

Crowley was surprised, but handed the jacket over. Aziraphale folded it neatly, along with his own, and set them down. The flowers Crowley had brought with him were put into a vase that was waiting on the table, as if Aziraphale had anticipated the gift. Aziraphale bustled when he was nervous, and he was certainly bustling now. He pulled out Crowley’s chair for him with a flourish, and Crowley sat, handing over the bag with their dinner. 

“What are we having dear?” He asked.

“Oh nothing special, I just popped over to Greece to get us some dolmades, spanakopita, baklava. No big deal.” Crowley shrugged. 

Aziraphale smiled so brightly it almost hurt Crowley’s eyes, and he wished for a moment he were wearing his sunglasses. “Oh my darling. I’d say you shouldn’t have, but I’m so glad you did.” 

Aziraphale busied himself dishing up the food for each of them, and selecting the perfect wine pairing. 

As he did that, Crowley picked up the thing on his plate. His eyes flicked over it with his typical feigned casualness which was ruined somewhat by the blush that spread across his face. A handmade Valentine, rather like the kind often made by elementary children. He had helped Warlock make something quite like this, in fact, although far more clumsy. A heart had been cut out of red construction paper with inhuman precision, a smaller pink heart glued on top, and a truly excessive amount of lace glued to the edge. It looked as though the glue had not stuck as firmly as Aziraphale would have liked it to, so now it was all held more strongly together by a miracle. 

As sweet as that was, it wasn’t what had Crowley blushing like a schoolboy who had just received his first kiss. Written on the card in Aziraphale’s unmistakable script was “You’re mine” rather than the typical “Be mine?” followed by “I love you, my dearest serpent.” Either of these would have been enough to make a mess of him. Combined? He was done for.

He was startled from his daze by Aziraphale’s hand on his arm. “Did you look at the other side?”

“Other side?”

“Yes, there’s a poem I thought was fitting. Adam did say poetry was traditional, although that “roses are red” tosh he recited wasn’t very good to my mind.” 

Crowley chuckled and set the card aside. “I’ll read it later, the food is probably getting cold.” It wouldn’t be, they both knew. Crowley had used a miracle to keep it the perfect temperature and undamaged on his trip back. But he didn’t know if he could emotionally handle love poetry after so much affection already, and Aziraphale seemed to understand, as he accepted the weak excuse.

Aziraphale ate, and Crowley watched, accepting small nibbles now and again. The angel’s expressions and small satisfied moans were even more powerful than usual, in the dim room and flickering candle light. Chin in his hands, Crowley stared, soaking it all in, with no reason to hide from his angel any longer. He was still getting used to being able to bask in his presence, after so many millenia. It was nice.

When Aziraphale had finished the rich, sticky baklava he leaned across the table and took both of Crowley’s hands in his. “You’ve taken such good care of me today darling, you always do.”

“It was nothing angel, ‘m happy to.”

“I know dear, and I’m sure you have more planned. But right now what I want is to return the favor.”

“There’s no need.”

Aziraphale gave him a knowing look. “Quite. Indulge me, then.”

How could he possibly refuse that?

“What did you have in mind, angel?”

“I thought perhaps, now might be a good time to take this to the bedroom.”

Crowley blushed. “Oh yeah, that. Give me a moment to slip into something more comfortable and I’ll be ready angel.”

“Oh good, I need a moment to do the same, or rather, to slip into something less comfortable.” He kissed his cheek. It was chaste, and yet somehow, full of promise of more to follow. “I’ll call you up to the room when I’m ready for you.”

As soon as Aziraphale was up the stairs to the bedroom, Crowley snapped his fingers, changing his clothes. The red satin was soft against his skin. His hair fell in curls over his bare shoulders from the bun it had been tied in. It would match the soft flowy style of lingerie Aziraphale usually went in for nicely. Although “less comfortable” sounded like the angel might be trying something more daring tonight. Crowley shivered in anticipation, already half hard.

After a minute or so standing in the chill of the empty bookshop in nothing but his underthings, goosebumps rising on his skin, Aziraphale finally called him up.

Crowley hesitated for just a moment by the bedroom door. As the door swung open, his jaw dropped. A trail of rose petals rose petals lead to the bed, where they covered the deep green sheets, looking almost like a garden. Candles flickered on every surface, casting the dark room in a soft ethereal glow.

And  _ Aziraphale _ , oh Aziraphale. He stood by the head of the bed. He wasn’t in his typical nighty. The only thing similar about  _ this  _ ensemble was that it was white. Aziraphale looked powerful, in a leather harness with matching collar and garters. The thick straps criss crossed all over his body, accentuating the gorgeous curves of him. He had swapped efforts for the night, completely uncovered. His hungry eyes burned into Crowley, who nearly fell to his knees right then and there. 

He crossed the room and Aziraphale pulled him into his strong arms. 

Crowley felt his lips brush against his ears as he purred. “I’d like you to do everything I say tonight, so I can take good care of you. Is that agreeable?”

“Ngk” Crowley pressed himself against Aziraphale, already breathing hard at the idea of it.”

Aziraphale’s grip on him tightened. “Is that agreeable?” He asked again, more firmly. Oh  _ god _ , he was using his dom voice, knowing how weak Crowley was for it.

“Yess” he breathed, like it was a prayer. “Yes, yes.”

“Good boy. Now lie on the bed for me.”

Crowley scrambled to comply. Aziraphale followed more gracefully, leaning over him. His eye trailed over the lean lines of him, sending sparks of pleasure through him.

“You’re lovely like this. Simply breathtaking.” Aziraphale sighed, running his hands down the bare skin and smooth fabric. His eyes lingered on the new lingerie, a beautiful present for him to unwrap. 

“ ‘M not.” Crowley mumbled, and that earned him a delicious smack. 

“Hush now, none of that. You’d do well to keep in mind who’s in charge here.” Crowley moaned, he couldn’t help it. “Now, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Crowley’s skin burned, he felt ready discorporate from it and he’d barely even been touched, as more praise flowed from Aziraphale’s lips. “So perfect like this, and all for me. What a treat, my dear.” His eyes were fully golden and he didn’t even  _ care _ .

Aziraphale pulled aside the thin fabric of his panties that had barely been holding his erection, and Crowley’s cock sprung free. “Wonderful” he sighed, and leaned down to give it a long, slow lick. Aziraphale moaned, letting out the most indecent sound, and Crowley twitched, throbbing. 

“You react so well, my good darling. I suppose I ought to stop teasing you, but you know how I love watching a squirm.”

“Bastard” Crowley gasped. He loved and hated that he could never predict the speed Aziraphale would take things. Sometimes it would be torturously slow. Other times…

Aziraphale snapped and Crowley’s fingers were suddenly coated in lube. The angel grinned, pulling his hand to the waiting folds of himself. “Yes, I suppose I am.” he said with a soft laugh. “Prepare me, my love? You always do it so well.”

When Crowley failed to respond, too overwhelmed, as always, by the words “my love”, Aziraphale took a fistful of his hair and pulled. Not too hard, just enough to make the message clear. Crowley whimpered, fingers beginning to move and probe inside him. He was already soaking and more than ready. This command was just another tool to drive Crowley wild and he loved that.

“That’s it, I knew you could be good for me.” He pulled Crowley’s hair again, just to hear the sounds it drew from him. Crowley closed his eyes and savored it. 

Aziraphale could have drawn this out for hours, and he’d have let him with barely a complaint. But apparently he was feeling a little impatient tonight, because barely a minute later, with another tug on his hair Aziraphale murmured “That’s enough dear. You’ve done so well, I knew you would, but that’s enough. 

Crowley pulled his hand away, and Aziraphale took that hand in his own and guided it up to his mouth while Crowley watched. His tongue darted out and tasted himself on Crowley’s fingers. Crowley Groaned as his blue eyes drifted closed, and aziraphale smiled. He then guided their hands to Crowley’s mouth. “My dear, you simply must taste this.” As if this were just some morsal at some restaurant. Crowley obayed, sucking his fingers into his mouth. “So good for me. I didn’t even have to ask and you knew what I wanted.”

Crowley watched, still sucking on his own fingers, as Aziraphale positioned himself over his cock. The angel locked eyes with him, and Crowley knew if he looked away it’d be another reprimand, and he couldn’t bear to disappoint him. So feeling terribly, wonderfully seen, Crowley watched as the angel sunk slowly onto him, pressing leisurely down.

Crowley’s hips twitched, his body trying to speed this up without his volition. “Ah-ah. I want you to be still for me love. Just lie there and take it. Can you do that for me? Can you be good?”

“Yessss” crowley hissed, losing control of his sibilants and not caring one bit. Aziraphale guided Crowley’s hand from his mouth to grip the harness, grounding him, and did the same with Crowely’s other hand. He clutched so hard his knuckles went white, and forced his body to behave and lie still. Aziraphale continued to roll his hips, pleasuring himself on Crowley’s cock. 

“How does that feel, my love?” He asked after a while.

“Hnnnk!!” Crowley was beyond words, just staring up at Aziraphale in ecstasy and awe.

Aziraphale smirked, and sped up. “Excellent.” Crowley trembled in the effort to remain still.

“So good, so well behaved, my Crowley.” 

_ My Crowley _ . He practically wailed, fighting every instinct to thrust into Aziraphale’s wet, tight heat. Mercifully, Aziraphale picked up speed again, delicious little gasps falling from his mouth in between the stream of praise that was wrecking Crowley even more than the physical sensations of it all. 

Aziraphale shifted his angle, and after all their time together Crowley knew this new position was rubbing the head of his cock against his g-spot each time he rolled down onto him. Aziraphale moved the hand that wasn’t tangled in Crowley’s hair to rub at his clit. “That’s it dear. I love what a mess I make of you.  _ Ohh.”  _ His eyes stared greedily down at Crowley’s flushed, trembling body, his hair a wild mess on the pillows, his eyes fully dilated and mouth half open, taking needy gasps of air between each moan.

They were both close, Crowley could tell by the way he throbbed and the way Aziraphale was clenching around him. Aziraphale leaned down, bringing their mouths together in a desperate kiss, all the while continuing to fuck himself on Crowley.

He broke this kiss, and whispered in his ear as he worked them both to their climax. 

“I adore you, you beautiful creature. Trusting me- Ah! like this. You’re such a gift, and you’re mine. All mine!” The last words, a low keen as Aziraphale clenched and began to tremble. “You’re so,  _ so _ good Crowley.”

Crowley’s back arched, unable to hold himself still any longer. He was writhing and thrusting, a cry of pure ecstasy torn from him by Aziraphale’s words. 

“That’s it love, let go.” 

He came, pulsing deep inside him as they shook through their orgasms together.

When they had both ridden out the aftershocks Aziraphale snapped away the lingerie, and nuzzled into Crowley’s chest. 

He pressed their foreheads together, still breathing hard. “I love you, my dearest. Happy Valentine's day.”

“Love you too, angel.”

  
  



End file.
